


Stargazing

by Dramance



Series: Summer ZADR Week 2020 [1]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Angst and Feels, Blood, Dib is pondering, M/M, Older Dib (Invader Zim), Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, ZaDr, ZaDr Week, Zim doesn't understand, first time writing from Zim's perspective, he's trying, it's mostly ZADE with heavy implication that there relationship is much more, its heavy dude, there are a lot of emotions in this one, these tags are great, well kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:01:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24861217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dramance/pseuds/Dramance
Summary: When Dib doesn't show up at school for a week, Zim goes to investigate. Not that he's worried, because that would be stupid. He finds Dib. On the roof. Stargazing...
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Series: Summer ZADR Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1798774
Comments: 15
Kudos: 120





	Stargazing

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Summer ZADR Week over on a discord server I'm a part of. There's gonna be a lot of publishing this week. Get ready!
> 
> Theme: Stargazing

It has been over a week since Zim had last heard from Dib, not that he cared about the earthworm’s whereabouts, of course. Zim just didn’t like not knowing the whereabouts of his enemy because it meant that he could catch him off guard at any moment. However, this past week has been quiet. So quiet that Zim hasn’t even seen him at school. Of course, he considered it a victory because it meant that he would have uninterrupted time to work on his latest diabolical scheme to take of this stupid planet Dib somehow called home. Yet, when the time came to reveal the plan, the stinkbeast hadn’t even bothered to show up. Zim got so furious with his enemy’s lack of punctuality that he ended up damaging his doomsday device _accidentally;_ because there was no way he’d damage the device on purpose just because his most formidable foe had failed to show.

Zim planned on confronting Dib the next day; he would make him look like an idiot in front of the entire student body. He’d show that little worm what it truly meant to test the patience of Irk’s finest Invader and he would make him feel so much pain for it, too!

Except, the monkey wasn’t there the next day. Or the next. Or the next.

Now that it had been a while, Zim officially decided that he would explore where his enemy had been hiding so he could have the honor of busting that ginormous head open for making him wait. Which led him to the events of tonight, skittering across rooftops on his PAK legs as he approached the Membrane household. It was quiet and dark with nothing more than the hum of the security system indicating that anyone was even home. Zim had visited this home many times on different occasions—all of which to bother Dib in his room—so he was intimately familiar with the pathetic security system that he could disable it with his ocular implants removed and busted.

Once the security was disabled, Zim slipped inside the boy’s room through the circular window and surveyed the area. It was a mess, as usual, but it looked a lot different than the previous times he had snuck in. Photos from the wall and dresser were on the floor, various candy wrappers and laundry were strewn everywhere, the bed was stripped of its sheets and blankets and pillows, and the laptop was busted on the floor. Zim tensed upon seeing that. Dib always carried that stupid hunk of metal around and showed it off whenever he could, even if he was just regurgitating previous information. Despite himself, Zim knelt down and inspected the thing, but it was broken beyond repair, like someone had thrown it to the floor.

There was no sign of Dib in the room.

Zim sat up and looked around again, his eyes landing on the door. It was possible that the boy was downstairs enjoying that stupid show he liked to brag about so much, but Zim didn’t want to risk entering any other portion of the house without his disguise. He could very easily peek through the downstairs windows to see if he was there. So, that’s exactly what he did, except Dib wasn’t there either.

Zim sat back against his PAK legs, losing himself to his thoughts. He knew Dib was a “night owl,” to use a human term Dib had told him once, but Zim knew that Dib didn’t like to go out at night unless he was out hunting for his Bigfeets and Mothperson. Perhaps that’s where he has been all this time?

Zim grit his teeth, his fists clenching at the mere thought that the worm would bother with anything besides him. It made his chest ache and his skin feel hot. He recalled this feeling before when the boy had left him to work with his father-unit; “jelly” was what this feeling was called. But Zim knew he didn’t get jelly, for that was ridiculous. He wasn’t jelly, he was an Invader! An Invader was jelly of no one and did not get jelly about anything!

He skittered to the roof to get a better view of the neighborhood. If the Dib was out there searching for his monsters, then Zim would find him, drag him back to his base by that big head of his, and prove that he was worth more than those stupid fake-beasts. However, when he landed on the roof and retracted his PAK legs, Dib was right there, sitting on the edge of the roof and looking up at the stars, surrounded by the stench of salt, dirty water, and iron.

At first, Zim did nothing but stare at the back of his large head, unsure of what to do or say. Then, all the rage of the last week caught up with him, and he clenched his fists. “Dib-beast! You disappear for a week and don’t bother to even come challenge me, your greatest enemy?! I come to your house to not find you in your room, I think you’re out hunting your stupid monsters, and then I find you _here,_ on your stupid roof?! How dare you!? You stupid human! How dare you avoid me, Zim?! I ought to punish you right now for being so inconsiderate!”

The words wouldn’t stop as soon as they started, and it left him breathless and stumbling from pointing his fingers and stomping his feet so much. He was ragged and unorganized and frazzled and he hated it, but the boy hadn’t even acknowledged his presence. He just kept staring straight up at the sky and hadn’t even said a word, which only made the little Irken angrier. “Are you listening, stink-pig?!”

Nothing was said between them for the longest time. Zim didn’t mind the silence, ignoring the way it left him feeling distant from his rival despite only being a few feet from him. But he had to keep his guard up, for he could not afford to show weakness in the eyes of the enemy.

“Are all the stars we see in our sky really dead?” Dib’s voice was quiet, yet clear, cutting through the silence with a blade and nearly leaving Zim shuddering.

Zim straightened himself and crossed his arms. “What are you talking about? That has nothing to do with what I asked!”

“I know. I heard you,” the boy responded without missing a beat, “but are they all really dead?”

Zim wanted to tell him how stupid the question was, as well as how unrelated the topic even was to their conversation, but he heaved a sigh. “Most of the stars in your sky are long dead, yes. As light takes years to reach anything, it would also take several years for you to stop seeing the light of a star, even after it has died. Shouldn’t that stupid, big head of yours know this?”

The boy shifted, but didn’t turn to face him. “Yeah, I know this, but I just wanted to be sure. Can’t trust what I say and think, so I gotta ask someone who knows what they’re talking about cause I’m stupid.” Dib’s voice was full of venom and each syllable hissed as they were spat from his mouth.

Zim squinted an eye. While he was certainly someone who would call the Dib stupid at any chance he got, he’d never heard the boy call himself that of his own volition. “Yes, of course,” he replied, cautiously, “I can never trust what you say because you always lie.”

“Always lie,” Dib chuckled. “Always lie, indeed, it seems.”

“Yes, of course…” Zim shook his head and narrowed his eyes, forcing himself to keep his voice harsh. “What were you doing the past week? Did you forget that I’m here to take over the Earth? Are you going to let millions of people suffer because you couldn’t dare face the mighty Zim? Are you giving up, puny Dib?”

“Yeah…”

“Then fear the wrath of—! Wait, what?”

“I’m giving up. You win, Zim. Take this planet and crush all of the ignorant people under your tiny boot and laugh maniacally while it burns. I don’t care. Just head home and unleash whatever hell you got onto this world and get it over with already,” he said, waving his hand like he was shooing off a bug.

Zim blinked, unsure of what to say. He’d fantasized about the day when Dib surrendered and he would be free to take over the Earth, especially if it meant watching the human suffer for all the pain he’d put Zim through. However, the way Dib just gave up with no fight, no argument, no prompting...it made Zim’s squeedlyspooch churn.

Zim must’ve been quiet for a while because Dib turned to face him. “Didn’t you hear what I said? You won, now leave.”

The moon was out, lighting up Dib’s pale face, though he didn’t need the moon to see him clearly. His ocular implants could see every detail of Dib’s fragile face, how thin and worn it looked. How tired and lifeless. His eyes were slightly red and puffy and Zim could make out the faint, drying tracks of some liquid along his cheeks. The scent of iron grew stronger and tingled along his antennae.

“What are you doing up here, Dib?”

Dib flinched at the question, though ironically, Zim had asked it curiously. If one were to see the two interacting now, they might even have said it sounded innocent.

“S-Stargazing, obviously.” He quickly turned around. “What’s it to you?”

“You were gone for more than a week.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Well...you’re obviously planning something, so I came to find out what.” He nodded his head, satisfied with that answer. “Tell Zim your filthy secrets!”

“Oh, fuck off, Zim. Like you give a shit about me, anyway. Don’t pretend you care, when—Newsflash: you don’t—and that you actually came to find me because you were worried.”

“Of course I wasn’t worried! Why would I be worried about a stupid Earth baby like you?”

“Yeah...why would you be?”

The silence drifted back in once again, like a heavy fog. Zim didn’t like this game they were playing. The two were very physical with each other, hence why they fought so much instead of arguing, but this time felt different. When one was angry, the other wouldn’t hesitate to continue riling up the first until they eventually continued the conversation with their fists. Here, Dib was doing everything he could to _end_ each conversation. Why? Zim didn’t know, but he hated being ignored. If Dib wanted him to leave, he was going to have to try harder than that.

He stared up at the stars, the things they both agreed were all dead and pointless not moments before. “Why stare at these dead lights, Dib-thing? What purpose does it serve? They’re not even at their peak brightness any more and these are quite pathetic compared to the ones in other sections of space. Stop wasting your time.”

Dib gave a hollow chuckle. “I’m working on that part, don’t worry…”

“What?”

“You wanna know something funny?” he asked, completely interrupting Zim’s earlier query. “Some of the greatest scientists were extremely unappreciated in their time, so much so that they were killed for it. Copernicus discovered heliocentrism, and Galileo studied the stars. They were hated for the things they told the world because they were so scared of what they meant. Yet, here we are, forced to study them in school and give them the appreciation they were stripped of from long ago. How...ironic.”

“These great people clearly meant nothing if they were disposed of so easily,” Zim scoffed. “Not to mention that it makes your people look even more stupid if they were so afraid of what these people taught.”

“Yeah...of course you look at it like that.”

“What is your point, human? To waste Zim’s time?”

Dib mumbled something under his breath that Zim didn’t quite catch in time before he continued. “They’re stars, Zim. Maybe not actual stars up in the pathetic sky, but they’re metaphorical ones: long dead people who tried to shine in the world only to be snuffed out, yet somehow got to even years after they perished. They’ll always be seen, even though they’re dead.”

The human hunched over himself, hugging his knees to his chest. “I...always wanted to be like that, but I never will.”

For a while, Zim could only stare at the back of Dib’s head as the silence creeped in once again. He remembered the boy trying to explain these “mety-fors” one day, but all he got out of them was that they used an object to explain the meaning of something else. Humans were complicated creatures that made no sense no matter which one you met, but out of all the things he found incredibly stupid, their languages—why would a creature need more than 6,000 languages to communicate?— were the most stupid. Why use a mety-for to explain something when you could just directly say it?

“You make no sense. Dead people are stars? Stars are balls of gas, idiot. Stop speaking your mety-fors and tell Zim what your point is!”

“Why bother, then? No one gets it! And you don’t even fucking care! Get off my fucking roof and leave me alone!” He turned around and threw something at Zim, which he dodged easily as it clattered along the rooftop. The smell of iron hit his antennae full force, and he turned to face the boy once again. He was standing this time, looking down and swaying from side to side, like he was in a daze. Zim could see something dripping off one of his hands.

“If you won’t leave, then fine. It might be fun for you to watch anyway…”

Zim vaulted forward, his PAK legs springing out in milliseconds as he extended forward to Dib. His claws wrapped around Dib’s shoulder and yanked him back from the edge, which he had attempted to step off. The pair crashed to the roof, and Zim struggled to pull the both of them backwards with his PAK legs. Dib shrieked and thrashed, cursing and ordering him to let him go, but Zim wouldn’t release his grip. He wasn’t sure what prevented him from doing so, but he knew he couldn’t.

“Get off! Get off! Get off!” Dib screamed. Zim snapped out of his adrenaline trance and looked down to find the human underneath him and pinned by his PAK legs. Blood oozed from wounds along Dib’s wrists and stained the silver blades. Liquid poured from his amber eyes and snot dribbled from his nose. Zim had to stop himself from gagging at the sight.

“You will stop thrashing right now, Dib-thing! Zim is trying to help!”

“Help? _Help?!_ How is pinning my bloody arms with your PAK legs helping me?!” He attempted to kick Zim again, but failed. “I was doing you a fucking favor! Why did you stop me?!”

A _favor?_ Zim couldn’t formulate the words in his mouth to ask how stepping over the ledge of a building was even close to a favor. Yet, he also couldn’t formulate a proper reason as to _why_ he stopped him, either. He knew what the boy was doing, he was no fool, but part of him didn’t want him to go through with it. “You’re not allowed to die!” he hissed.

“Who asked you, Zim?!” Dib spat, hissing as he tried to wrench his arms out, only to end up making the gashes worse. Suddenly, he stopped. “Oh, is _that_ what it is? I can’t die because you wanna kill me yourself?”

“What?”

Dib stopped struggling and went limp in Zim’s grasp. “Of course that’s the problem. Well, you have me, Zim. Right where you want me. Do whatever the fuck you want, I don’t care. Just fucking kill me.”

Zim stared down at Dib, his body laid out submissively for him. He had been waiting for a chance like this, when Dib was weak and under his control, all hope and fight drained from his eyes. He wanted to bask in Dib’s weakness and submission, rub it in his face before he made the final blow and took everything away from him. But as Zim stared down into those lifeless eyes, no joy came to him. There was no rush in his squeedlyspooch and no pride in his chest. Dib didn’t struggle, didn’t resist or fight. He was devoid of anything, of the fire that was always alit in those amber eyes.

Zim shoved him away, retracting his PAK legs. “No!”

Dib caught one of the limbs before it could disappear. “What do you mean “no?” I’m right where you want me. Defeated. Alone. Worthless. For once, you have me at your mercy, and you won’t even take the opportunity?” He grasped the PAK leg with both hands, falling to his knees. “Am I that pathetic that you of all people won’t even kill me?” he whimpered.

Zim tried pulling the limb from Dib’s grasp, but that only earned him a scream as Dib tried to keep it close. The two were lost in another struggle, but this one was drastically different from the others. They didn’t try to hurt each other, didn’t insult each other, didn’t try to one-up each other, but Zim still felt like he had something to lose should Dib win. And he wouldn’t let Dib win.

Zim pinned him again, but this time only with his claws, making sure to shut his PAK legs tight inside his PAK. “Enough with your pathetic squabbling! Zim is not going to stab you so you can be one of your dead stars!”

Dib howled and bawled, more tears streaming down his face, and he kicked and thrashed full force. “You don’t get it! No one gets it! Leave me alone! Get the fuck away from me!”

“No!”

“Fuck you! Fuck you fuck you fuck you!” Dib continued to scream and kick and thrash until he erupted into coughs. Zim could feel his skin burning from some of Dib’s fluids as they splashed on him, and he did his best to suppress his disgust. Soon, Dib’s howls decreased until they were whimpers and his thrashing turned into anxious shaking. He sobbed unapologetically and hiccuped loudly, refusing to meet Zim’s eyes.

“Just let me die,” he whispered. “There’s no point in keeping me around if I attract all the wrong attention. I don’t deserve to shine anymore.”

This wasn’t Dib. There was no fight left in him. No fire in those eyes. Even when Zim had nearly had the boy before during previous battles, that fight had never left him. He had still struggled, still refused to give in when he had lost. Now, he was a sad, empty husk of the human he once knew. He was…

Broken.

And Zim wanted to know who had thrown him to the floor and shattered him.

He eyed the slits along his arms, the ones leaking fresh blood along his rubber gloves. “Who did that to you?”

Dib finally opened his eyes and followed Zim’s gaze, but still refused to meet his eyes. “I did...I thought I could be ok if I just...it’s a way of coping. You wouldn’t understand…”

“They need stitches. They’re bleeding too much.”

“Leave it alone, Zim,” Dib said as he shoved the Irken off him. “I want to fucking die, and if you won’t let me jump, then just let these do the job.”

“You’re _not_ going to die,” Zim hissed harshly and yanked the boy’s arm forward, pulling out some Irken bandages from his PAK to at least wrap his wounds and slow the bleeding.

“And who’s gonna stop me?” Dib spat back. “You can’t watch me forever, and the moment you turn your back, I’ll be ready to end it. By any means necessary. You won’t have any say in it, like you even care to begin with!”

“I have more of a say in your life than you even realize, Dib-thing! You will _not_ be dying! Not if I have anything to say about it!”

“Why?!” he yelled, ripping his arm out of Zim’s grip. “What does some stupid, no-good, useless meat-bag have that’s worth your attention?! I said I was giving up! I said I wanted to die and I _would have!_ If you had just let me! I’m giving you the Earth on a silver platter and you won’t. Fucking. Take it!” Dib screamed, his voice rising to crescendo on the last word. But as those words left his mouth, all drive left him and he collapsed to his knees, weak and empty. “You won’t take it…”

He clenched his fists atop his knees, gripping his pants. “Why?”

Zim stared at the boy. That question wasn’t rhetorical, but he had a hard time forming an answer because…he didn’t know, as much as he hated to admit even to himself. He could not explain that he only acted to pull Dib back from the edge simply because he did not want him to do it. Not only was that answer incredibly lame, even by his own standards, but it would not be enough to persuade him. Zim knew exactly what Dib wanted. He knew that the boy’s chest was aching with emptiness and loss and it wanted guidance, _needed_ guidance. _Validation._ For years, Zim had thought that he had given Dib enough validation as his enemy by thwarting his plans to destroy the Earth; and after a certain point in time, Dib was the only one to give Zim a sense of validation in return. However, as the years went by, Dib had grown distant and wanted validation from his father-unit; and, oh, how the boy would brag to Zim about the way he was going to get that validation, so much so that his taunts still rang in his antennae hours after he had last heard Dib’s voice.

Zim may not have a father-unit—the Irken race reproducing using clones was far superior than any natural means, of course—but he understood Dib’s drive for his approval because it was the same as Zim’s drive to prove himself to his Tallest. The drive to show his undying loyalty, to present his accomplishments as an Invader and conqueror, to accept the endless praise that dripped from their mouths on his behalf were all things he never got.

Zim’s head snapped up to gaze upon Dib’s submissive and vulnerable form. How intimately Zim knew that position was too painful to recall, but he knew it. In fact, the more Zim stared at Dib, the more he started to see himself. Alone. Broken. Weak.

Defective.

“Not defective,” Zim mumbled.

“What?” Dib sniffed.

Zim stood up and walked over to him, doing his best to tower over the boy, which was easier with him kneeling. “You are not defective.”

Dib cocked an eyebrow. “Defective?”

“You are not a disgrace or useless or pathetic or broken. And you did nothing wrong to deserve what happened. You don’t get to be broken at the hands of someone else because that’s _my_ job!”

“Zim—”

“You are a human, which means there are a bunch of things wrong with you, but you are the Dib, which means you are better than any crummy human on this planet! Because you are _my_ nemesis! _Mine!_ No one else is allowed to hurt you!”

“Zim, you’re not making any—”

“And you’re not allowed to die as a result of it! You’re better than that! Better than all of them! And if you die, then Zim will be alone! Alone on this…” Zim’s voice faltered and he stepped back, trying to stand upright on shaking legs, “this stupid rock with no empire or…communication or…purpose.”

Zim sank to the ground in front of Dib and looked away. For a while, the two didn’t speak, one too stunned by the admission to reply and the other too self-conscious to acknowledge the admission. Finally, Zim curled his legs to his chest and breathed a sigh. “Your mety-fors are stupid and ridiculous and not worth Zim’s time, but…you say that you think no one appreciates your starlight, even when you die? Then, I am a star that no one sees despite being the best one there. No one sees…” his lips curled into a snarl, “ _tiny Zim…_

“But…you see Zim. You see me and you chase me and you fight with me and you acknowledge me. You give Zim purpose…and if you die, that goes away…”

The two went silent after that, with nothing but the wind rolling over the roof to know that reality hadn’t stopped. Although, one would argue that it had shattered. Zim couldn’t bear to meet his enemy’s eyes after that, not after pouring his squeedlyspooch out like that. He hated himself for it, but he wasn’t sure if he hated himself simply because he felt vulnerable in front of Dib or because he felt that way in general. Feeling like this, no matter what circumstance, was forbidden. Disgraced. Defective.

“Not defective…” Zim mumbled, before looking back up at Dib. “I’m not defective and you aren’t either. And if I’m stuck on this stupid planet forced to stare at your dead, unchanging stars every night then you are too!”

He shot to his feet and grabbed Dib by the collar of his trench coat so quickly that he yelped. “So no dying on Zim! And if the Dib feels broken or useless or stupid then Zim will fix you!”

Despite that he didn’t want to touch the boy more than necessary, Zim didn’t remove his hands from his trench coat. They stayed there, silent, with nothing but the unspoken words behind their eyes. Slowly, ever so slowly, Dib’s eyes welled up with tears, spilling over when they reached the rim as soft sobs wracked his body. He shut his eyes tight, gritting his teeth, and laid his head against the Irken’s chest. Zim let it happen, and eventually he moved his fingers from the coat to his hair, absentmindedly running the matted locks through gloved hands. The two stood there for a while, neither willing to make a move at the others expense.

They were enemies fighting the same fight under the same dead stars.

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on social media!
> 
> [ My NSFW Twitter](https://twitter.com/EnbyDibBitch) Pretty please don't follow if you're under 18. I will look you up and block if I must.
> 
> [ My SFW Twitter](https://twitter.com/_Dramance)
> 
> [ My Tumblr](https://dramancewrite.tumblr.com/) Asks open!


End file.
